It doesn’t seem to stop. I’m writing this after watching a video of young people at a concert in Manchester, England, run for their lives after a bomb explosion stopped the music.

I’m writing this after hearing the pain of a dad whose handsome son was knifed to death while waiting with friends near a bus stop on the University of Maryland campus. This was just days before his graduation from Bowie State University.

Then there is Danny, a coaching client, who told me he is still angry…no, furious, thinking about his brother, Neil, who was a victim of a stray bullet in the dusk of an evening not even a year ago.

And the eighteen-year-old girl at Times Square, whose last memory was most likely of a car careening onto the sidewalk and snuffing out her life.

Funny story: I was working on getting my negative thinking under control and asked someone to help me. You see, it’s hard to do anything totally alone and I know the power of relationships can make a tremendous difference.

I found my power person to help and I found my power word.

I asked my dearest, best friend, who also happens to be my husband, to support me in this not-so-easy task of changing outdated behavior patterns. I asked him to simply say my power word whenever he caught me reverting to the victim behavior, that I must say, I really can get into sometimes.

I asked Herb to use my power word to remind me to stop my blaming, judging or attacking another and find a more positive way to handle my upset. I want to give up the “poor me” and “life’s not fair” attitude.

Now, I don’t go there often; however, I want to have this behind me totally.

I teach others to be better leaders and to stop whining and get going. Yet, there are times when my old survival responses seem to take over and I sound lame and ineffective.

Herb and I made the agreement. He would use my power word, and nothing more, when I would start up with a sob story.

So, one afternoon, someone who had promised to complete a project for me, called with tons of excuses. It was going to set me back several weeks and that meant promises I made to others would get caught in the back water.

There’s a great story that has not been validated; however, it’s still a great story about checking up on what’s going on around you.

Back in the day of Queen Catherine the Great, everyone did what she wanted. Guess that’s why she was called “the Great!”

As legend would have it, this longest ruling female leader would get her way, no matter what.

There had been a hard winter in Russia and one morning Queen Catherine was standing at the window looking at the vast cold terrain and saw the first spring flower pushing through the snow. It could have been a daffodil or a snowdrop flower. In any case, she wanted to enjoy this miracle of nature and posted a guard right there, so no one could pick or step on this beauty.

Fast forward to decades later when Alexander II was the Czar in the mid 1800’s. One day, he looked out of that same palace window and saw a soldier standing at attention on the lawn. Nothing was there as far as he could see and asked Otto van Bismarck what the soldier was doing there.

It’s not you, it’s me… Well it’s also you, but with some guidance I have seen how the patterns of my past influenced our relationship.

I started to feel it in my mid 40’s. Things were different. I had evolved, you had changed. You didn’t make me happy anymore and I started to hate you for it. Still, we had been through a lot, so I didn’t want to quit. I felt I could fix things. I believed you had so much to learn from me if you would just accept it.

By 50 it was all over except the tears. I only saw you as irrational, controlling and heartless. But I know you were just doing what comes naturally, and I was playing my roll of the Rebel. I couldn’t fix you, so I would watch you destroy yourself with smug satisfaction, except that it wasn’t satisfying, it was saddening.

From the day you were born, even before conception, there are beliefs and stereotypes that are attached to gender.

Let’s consider the color continuum for gender. Pink is for girls and blue is for boys. Right? Where did this begin? Who decided which colors belong to which gender?

Here is a brief trip through history. In the 1800’s all babies, male and female, wore white “dresses” in infancy. Thus, babies were gender neutral. These sacks were easy for changing diapers and to bleach when they became dirty.

Then around the 1920’s Western parents began dressing the little ones in colors. Pink was associated with boys. Yes, you heard me, boys. Here is the rationale: red is a bold and brave color and too strong for children so, boys got the watered-down version…pink.

Blue, a more subdued color was for girls. And by the way, blue was associated with the Virgin Mary, thus a color of purity. Just saying!

Tours to that revered site in Rome, the Vatican are expensive and seemingly necessary. Otherwise the lines can be hours long.

The Vatican is a must see in Rome. Regardless of religious background or preference there is a majesty to being in the presence of some of the most amazing art and sculpture the world has to offer. And looking up at the Blessing Window where the Pope stands and then pivoting around to observe what it must be like to look out at huge numbers of appreciative and reverent individuals is a stunning moment.

COMING SOON!

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